


Mea Pessima Culpa (when i'm on my knees you're how i pray)

by thymelord



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Catholicism, Church Sex, Come Swallowing, Improper Use of Catholic Rituals, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Priest Kink, Rough Sex, Sacrament of Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 16:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14898182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thymelord/pseuds/thymelord
Summary: the devout albus severus potter is having less than seemly thoughts about father malfoy, and naturally he must confess all during the sacrament of reconciliation lest he be doomed to an eternity of hellfire.what could possibly go wrong?(or: i’m mildly put out that there’s no exploration of religion in the wizarding world except from the fact that they celebrate xmas and easter, so this is an AU in which the potter-weasley family is extremely catholic and draco is their priest)





	Mea Pessima Culpa (when i'm on my knees you're how i pray)

**Author's Note:**

> title is latin for “my most wicked fault” and is a play on “mea maxima culpa”, which means “my most grievous fault” and is said in the catholic sacrament of reconciliation. subtitle is from the song religion by lana del rey.

Albus Severus Potter remembered his father’s shock when they had walked into Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception that Sunday and found Draco Malfoy at the pulpit.

Harry had of course had no contact whatsoever with his former nemesis after their fateful seventh year, and had had no idea that Draco was even remotely inclined towards the spiritual. And yet there he was, in his vestments and white collar, platinum hair cut in a conservative fashion and slicked back, surveying the congregation with an eerily familiar haughtiness.

Albus didn’t know if it was _then_ that it had begun – that with his first glimpse of Father Malfoy there had been a whisper of desire stirring within his adolescent body, only to build up and up until the symptoms could no longer be ignored, like chronic lead poisoning. All he knew was that when he was eighteen, it all came to a head, and he could not ignore his feelings any longer. He would wake up in the dead of night, sheets sweat-drenched and cock hard as sin, the dream-visions of Father Malfoy’s silk-soft hands sliding over his skin still fresh in his mind.

Feeling such about any man was bad, but it was multiplied a hundredfold when the object of his desire was a fucking _priest,_ the sin transmuted from venial to mortal in an instant. For _fuck’s_ sake, he could have picked anyone – simply _anyone –_ but he had chosen a man of the cloth.

But he hadn’t chosen it, had he? It was Providence, toying with him. Or rather, not Providence, for that implied the hand of God, but the influence of Satan himself. What had he ever done to attract the Devil’s attention, he wondered?

And so it was that one Sunday, a few months after his painful realisation that he wanted Father Malfoy’s cock more than nearly anything else in the world, that he realised he had to repent.

This, surely, was the point. This was why God had allowed Satan to mislead him so; He wanted to test if Albus would do the proper thing, and confess. And so he would. He refused to let the Devil win.

Albus stepped into the confessional, and kneeled. Through the screen, he fancied that he saw the outline of Father Malfoy, but it could as easily have been his imagination. “Forgive me father, for I have sinned,” Albus began, mechanically. The words came as naturally to him as the Lord’s Prayer, of the Hail Mary, of the simplest spells. “It has been seven days since my last confession and these are my sins - ” And now he hesitated, words getting stuck in his throat like knives.

“Yes, my child?” Father Malfoy’s voice was always so _gentle_ in the confessional. At the altar, he was mighty and magnificent as the instrument of God that he was, sure and certain, the firmness of his voice leaving you in no doubt that what he was saying was the truth and nothing but the truth. At the very occasional times he had encountered Albus and his father outside of church, he had been polite with an undercurrent of steel running in his words, as though he had not forgotten – and could not forget – what had transpired during their years at Hogwarts.

But in the confessional booth, his voice seemed to say that Albus could tell him anything, confess anything, and he would not be judged. Usually this was a comfort, but not today. Nothing could be a comfort today.

“I have had… sinful thoughts, Father.” Albus knew his words were pointlessly vague, but couldn’t continue until Father Malfoy had prompted him with a soft, “Yes?”

“I… I have partaken in self-abuse while…” Albus swallowed, the sound ringing through the confessional like a gunshot. “While thinking o-of men.”

There was a faint rustling sound. “Yes?” came Father Malfoy’s voice, suddenly hoarse. “Tell all, my child.”

“I-I…” It seemed that every millilitre of his blood rushed to his face all at once. He hadn’t been expecting… surely Father Malfoy didn’t wish him to go into _detail,_ did he? He was just looking for a clarification, wasn’t he? “I thought about performing carnal acts with men.”

There was a pause.

And then the screen vanished.

~

Draco’s wand seemed to move of its own accord, and he’d Vanished the screen before he could ask himself what the bloody _hell_ he thought it was doing, revealing Albus Severus Potter staring at him with a face like a frightened rabbit.

“I think,” said Draco softly, “this is the sort of thing that needs to be discussed, rather than confessed.”

A wild panic entered Albus’ eyes. “What do you mean? I don’t… that is, I…”

No matter how many times Draco was confronted with the boy, he was struck every time by his extraordinary similarity with his father. Lily had the red hair of her mother and paternal grandmother, and James had a strange light-brown coloured hair and hazel eyes that didn’t particularly resemble his mother or his father’s colouring, and appeared just to have sprung out of the depths of his genes. But Albus had jet-black hair and green eyes, and even wore glasses – although his square frames were as different from Harry’s as was imaginable, which was no doubt the point.

Draco had always felt a little pull of attraction to Harry during their Hogwarts days, despite – or maybe even because of – the fact that they’d been enemies practically from the moment they’d met. But whereas Harry was merely attractive, Albus was fucking _stunning,_ as though Harry’s looks had been distilled and purified and then the result planted firmly in Draco’s path simply to make his life a living hell.

He performed some quick mental arithmetic, and was ashamed to find the curl of warmth in his belly intensify when he realised Albus was, _definitely,_ of age.

But even though he was legal, Draco simply couldn’t entertain the idea of fucking Albus Severus Potter. Absolutely not. No, no, _never._ There was the issue of who is father was, and then there was the fact that he was a _priest._ A priest who had joined the Catholic clergy in an attempt to atone for his sins, after receiving a flash of divine inspiration a couple of months after the Battle of Hogwarts. He had been celibate ever since.

Well over a decade of celibacy could do strange things to a man as hot-blooded as Draco.

That was surely the only explanation of why he could feel his cock swelling beneath his cassock as he eyed Albus, watching as he nervously bit his bottom lip in a way that shouldn’t be as enticing as it was.

Lips so red and plump, with such a pronounced Cupid’s bow surely could not have been intended by God for anything else but kissing --

Or sucking cock.

“These desires,” said Draco, and winced internally to hear that his voice was still a little huskier than usual, “have obviously been weighing on your mind, Albus. Have you been having somewhat of a… crisis of faith?”

Albus nodded energetically. “Yes, Father, exactly. I feel that… well, that my desires are not… compatible with my faith. With my family. They’ve always… ignored the existence of… such people. Not condemned it, as such, but just… never brought it up. Ever. And the Wizarding Catholic Church does not look favourably upon such urges, and…”

There was a lock of hair falling in Albus’ eye, beneath the lens of his glasses. It didn’t seem to be bothering him, but for some reason Draco was so irritated by it that he reached out and brushed it from his forehead. He felt Albus still underneath his touch, and their eyes locked.

And oh, _Merlin’s saggy bollocks,_ but that was definitely desire sparking in Albus’ verdant eyes.

“How I’ve always seen it,” said Draco shakily, hand still resting against Albus’ cheek, “is that God does not care who people lay with, but only cares about whether we love our neighbour, and love Him.”

One corner of Albus’ delectable lips quirked upwards. “Does that mean _you_ aren’t celibate, Father?”

 _The cheeky fucking sod._ It was a shame the Potter arrogance did not appear to skip a generation. “You aren’t as shy as you first appear, are you, Potter?” Draco leaned forward. “Was all that earlier stuttering just a front, hmm? Are you being coy with me?”

The rabbit-in-the-gaze-of-a-Thestral look was back, but Albus didn’t flinch backwards, as Draco had been half-expecting. “I don’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His eyes darted to the side, finally breaking their link with Draco’s. “Does that mean that you won’t give me any penance, Father?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think you could do with a little bit of atonement.”

“What do you -”

Draco surged forward, shoving Albus against the side of the booth. Albus’s eyes  widened, a squeak of surprise coming from his mouth. “F-father - ”

“Draco,” he growled in his ear. “Call me Draco.”

~

Albus didn’t know what he’d been expecting.

But it wasn’t this.

Thank God everyone was such a heathen in this town and the only one at Confession today was him.

Father Mal- no, _Draco –_ was motionless against him, hand pushing his shoulder into the wooden wall, lips inches from Albus’s but apparently not being to bridge the gap between them. When Albus spoke, his words were barely more than a breath. “So what is the punishment for masturbating to the thought of a priest pleasuring me?”

Draco’s lips parted slightly, and then their mouths were crashing together. Desire surged through Albus as he felt Draco’s hardened length pressing against his thigh, and he whined into his mouth, hips canting forward involuntarily. “Want you,” he whispered, his hand going towards his own cock – only for his wrists to be grabbed and pinned above his head.

“Naughty boys need to work for their pleasure,” said Draco, eyes flashing, and suddenly Albus was being yanked to his knees, Draco’s cassock parting above him. Hands twined in his hair, pulling cruelly, and Albus let out a gasp that was half-pain and half-pleasure.

“Suck,” commanded Draco, and Albus didn’t have to be told twice.

He was nervous at first, tongue hesitantly licking up Draco’s length, unsure what he was doing. But Draco moaned, hands tightening in Albus’s hair, and he breathed out, “ _Fuck…”_ Taking this as encouragement, Albus dipped his head and took him into his mouth as far as he could, tongue tasting the salty bead of precum gathering on the head, mingling with Draco’s delicious, musky scent.

It wasn’t long before Draco was pulling him off and pushing him to the wall, this time facing away from him, and Albus felt a shiver of anticipation as he realised what the priest intended. Draco roughly removed Albus’s robes and slid them across the floor, before kicking Albus’s legs apart. His hands splayed on the wall, cheek pressing against the cold mahogany panels. “Draco,” he whined, “ _Draco - ”_ He pushed his arse further back, desperate, but was dealt a hard slap to his backside.

“Patience,” hissed Draco, “or you may not find release at all.”

“Yes,” gasped Albus, “yes, _sir - ”_ Albus didn’t even know what he was saying until the words were out of his mouth, and he momentarily froze with horror before he realised Draco was responding to his words, erection pressing against the back of his thighs.

“You’re a fucking natural, aren’t you?” Draco murmured against his ear. “One would almost think you’ve done this before.”

“N-no, sir, I promise, you’re my first – you’re the only one I’ve wanted…” Albus yelped as Draco tugged down his trousers and underwear, a whispered spell making Albus’s arse as slick as a cunt as Draco slid a finger inside.

Albus bucked backwards, a cry escaping him. “ _Draco!_ Please – _please_ –“

 “Been planning this, have you?” whispered Draco, lips skimming down the side of Albus’s throat. “Dreaming about how you were going to lure your _priest_ into bed? Although - ” He gave a hoarse laugh. “A bed seems too generous for a shameless wanton like you.”

Albus couldn’t help but respond to Draco’s words, cock somehow managing to get even harder until there was a physical pain in his groin. He felt like he would explode if he didn’t find his release _right now,_ but he knew that begging would only make Draco hold it off for longer.

The fucking sadist.

The fingers in Albus’s arse disappeared, and before he had the chance to whimper at the sudden lack of sensation, it was replaced by something thicker – _far_ thicker – pressing almost questioningly at his entrance. “Are you ready, babyboy?” Draco said, voice hushed.

“Yes,” whined Albus, “yes, please - ”

“Yes _what?”_

“Sir,” he gasped out, “please, sir, take me!”

Draco pushed inside, and they cried out as one, the pleasure hitting Albus almost immediately. He’d been expecting it to hurt, but he only felt a little burn as the head slid past his sphincter, and then bliss. Had Draco performed some sort of spell to reduce it? He wouldn’t be surprised that such lewd spells existed, especially as a lubrication spell did, but he had to wonder why a priest would know such charms…

Albus’s hands pressed harder on the wall, Draco’s thrust making the walls creak alarmingly until he thought he’d end up getting fucked straight through it. He supposed whoever built the confessional wasn’t exactly preparing for circumstances such as these.

And then Draco’s cock pressed against something inside him that made all the pleasure he’d thus experienced pale in comparison; he hadn’t even _imagined_ that anything could feel so good, and with a choked “ _Draco!”_ he came, splattering the inside of the confessional with ropes of pearly-white cum. He’d never came so hard in his life.

Draco continued to thrust inside him, pace suddenly picking up even further, and Albus was wracked with shivers as he continued to hit his hypersensitive prostate. “Too much – too much, _fuck - ”_

“Albus,” gasped Draco, “you’re fucking incredible.” He let out a surprisingly high-pitched gasp as Albus felt him spurt inside him, this action so incredibly erotic that he actually began to feel himself getting hard again.

Albus turned around and collapsed on one of the seats. Draco barked a laugh as he spied his semi-erection. “Oh, to be young.” He knelt between Albus’s knees, looking up beseechingly. “Yes?”

“I don’t… I don’t think I’ll be able to come again… so soon…”

“Isn’t there only one way to find out?” The priest gave him a positively filthy grin, and a jolt of lust went through Albus that brought himself to full hardness.

Draco wrapped his lips around him, tongue pulling at the foreskin, and Albus was releasing into his mouth an embarrassingly short amount of time later. Draco took it all, swallowing, and was about to wipe a stray drop of white from the corner of his lips when Albus leaned in and licked it away. Draco lunged for him, lips capturing his, and Albus was oddly turned on by the taste of himself mingled with Draco’s saliva. When they finally pulled apart, Draco was staring at him, bright-eyed.

“Well,” he said.

“Well, repeated Albus. “That was… incredible.”

Draco reached out, caressing the side of Albus’s cheek. “It was. Although maybe that was just because I’ve been celibate for over twenty years.”

“ _Arse,”_ laughed Albus.

“If I _really_ wanted to see if you were a good fuck, we’d have to repeat the experiment, wouldn’t we?”

Albus’s tongue flicked out to wet his bottom lip. “Y-Yes, I suppose we do, don’t we?”

**Author's Note:**

> i feel like i need to pray the entire rosary now. 
> 
> check out [my tumblr!](https://thymelord.tumblr.com/)


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